Dead End
by Moral Mark
Summary: It started with a flash in the sky, and a ripple through the clouds. From then on, this was no world of Heroes. Concept inspired by an Ultimate Fantastic Four arc that spawned a miniseries, a sequel, and a crossover.


So, here we all are. How are you doing, Sylar? Please, don't keep trying to struggle, you'll tire yourself out. Relax, grab a seat, we'll get to the . . . festivities . . . in a little bit. In the meantime, seeing as that we've spent all this time hunting - no, chasing you and wearing you down to the bone, I think it's appropriate that we step back, soak in everything that's happened to this planet in the past twelve hours.

You agree, yes? Of course you do. Not like you have much of a choice anyway, ha!

Where do we start? Oh, yes the end. Or shall we say, the beginning.

It started with a flash in the sky, and a ripple through the clouds.

Everyone was there. Peter, Bennet, and Parkman were on the march to Kirby Plaza, ready to take you down. The Sanders family had just been recently united, and all of us were fleeing the company building. Best case, we were hoping to get our injured to safety while the others would stop you from your messiah complex of a plan.

The three on the war march expected to face you in the plaza. Who - or should I say, what - they met instead, was something else altogether.

Well, no, that's not true in its entirety. It looked like you. It talked like you. Even wore that arrogant sneer like you. But, how does that joke go? If it looks like a dead body, and smells like a dead body . . . .

You don't get that joke? Well, I don't, either.

Peter was the first to go. Being out there right next to the creature, the thing bit a piece off Peter's neck. Bennet managed to unload several rounds into the thing's head, effectively blowing it off (thank god, by the way, because I don't think we could take two of you occupying one planet, undead or otherwise). Nonetheless, it was too late. Poor Noah became the first course, as Peter quickly took him down to the ground, feasted on his head, and was tearing into his ribcage by the time the rest of us made it out of the building.

The look on Claire's face when she saw her "father" ripped apart like baby back ribs - if you had taken a picture of her expression, you could not find a better face for horrific sorrow if you had asked Leonardo Da Vinci himself to paint one for you.

"I'm . . . I'm sorry, Claire," was all he said before he pounced on her, a rabid wolf on the attack.

We tried to fend Peter away, but not before he took a chunk of Claire's abdomen. So, in our efforts to keep Peter at bay, we didn't expect a blonde-haired teenage accomplice to prey on us from behind.

When that Nakamura fellow arrived on scene, that sword of his really didn't do anything against us. Not like he did much, anyway - amazing just how shock can shut your brain down from completely doing anything, especially when that shock comes from walking into the middle of a cannibalistic eating contest.

The innocent bystanders came first. This being New York City, those weren't in short supply, though they tended to run away when they saw the people around them being eaten. Then came the authorities, which were marginally more problematic. Guns and bullets didn't really slow us down, and with our combined incredible talents, they fell fairly easily. And with Parkman's telepathy along with his knowledge of police tactics and procedures, we even managed to stay one step ahead.

The military, on the other hand, were far more annoying. When the tanks and assault rifles and body armor came, we had already amassed a reasonably large army out of those we did not eat (fully, anyway). Military might, however, were quickly stopping our infestation from spreading, as they were moving faster than we were feasting. Oh, by the way, don't try to tell a teleporter / time manipulator to do anything useful with long trips through frozen time, as hunger apparently keeps him from concentrating very well.

Anyway, the military would have been able to stop this nightmare. Then came Peter's dear old brother, Nathan. Attempting to talk us down proved fruitless, though eloquent and very heartwarming (guess you have to be good at that sort of thing if you're a politician). In the end, after some speech about remembering what was human in all of us and to follow what we knew was true within us, Niki chewed off three of Nathan's right fingers, and he became one of us.

The infestation spread very, very quickly after that.

Those who were "gifted" or "special" were spared, as well as anyone else who could be useful or weren't completely finished off. Everyone else - well, you've looked around, go figure, I guess.

I was going to ask how - or why you ran off, why you yourself weren't there in Kirby Plaza, but you know what, I don't think any of us give a damn.

What was that thing that started this all? What is going on, exactly? Why are we doing this? Well, we don't know, we don't know, and it's far simpler than you think.

Micah here thinks that it came from some other dimension, not unlike ours. A remnant of an arrogant bastard . . . ahem . . . who decided to play god and pass into our reality. Ironically, his plan did a better job of bringing humanity to an end than yours.

I think we're infected with some sort of virus, one that keeps our consciousness alive and makes our bodies run more efficiently, even when our bodies are effectively dead. Our appetite for flesh is psychological, as our bodies no longer need nutrients to survive. Haven't had a chance to take a look at it closer, as I've been busy feasting, but I like Claire's explanation better - we're "freakin' zombies."

As for why? Well, like I said, the answer's very simple - hunger. We're hungry, and we just can't control ourselves. You, however, are one annoying, arrogant egomaniac. Which is why we're going to enjoy this.

Well, I think that about does it. Now shut up and stay still while Niki tenderizes you for Sylar tatare.

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_Heroes_ gets the _Marvel Zombies_ treatment. 'Nuff said.


End file.
